Three Weddings
by fearlessfan
Summary: Mindy and Danny attend three weddings in their first year together.


THREE WEDDINGS

VERMONT – OCTOBER 2014

"I cannot believe you forgot her name," Mindy says into Danny's ear, a little bit louder than she needs to, and she's gratified when she sees him flinch. "She is one of my best friends, that was mortifying."

"How can I remember the names of all of your best friends? You have like eight thousand of them," Danny says, placing pressure on the small of her back to pull her closer.

Mindy keeps her distance, but it's hard. She always wants to be closer to Danny. "I will not apologize for being a vibrant soul who attracts many kindred spirits."

"I thought the whole point of kindred spirits was that there only could be one of them," Danny says. "Kind of like best friends. One best friend, one kindred spirit. That's how it works."

"No, that's soulmates," Mindy says, brushing a leaf off of Danny's shoulder. Justine's devotion to autumn as a theme includes the occasional deployment of vibrantly-colored fall leaves. "What is up with the runaway foliage? There will be no nature at my wedding, let me tell you. Anyway, what was I saying?"

"Couldn't tell you," Danny says, picking a leaf out of her hair in a careful way that she can tell leaves her complicated hairstyle intact.

"Thank you," she says, but in a tone that lets him know he's not entirely forgiven. "I remember. I was educating you on the nature of kindred spirits."

Danny shakes his head. "I still don't think that's a thing."

"Kindred spirits are definitely a thing! Don't act like you're clueless about Anne of Green Gables, I remember seeing you cry when Matthew died."

Danny looks over her shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He places pressure on her back again, and this time she let him pull her closer. They spent a week watching Anne of Green Gables at night, curled up together on the couch. She remembers feeling then the way she does now, held close against him. Like she's found the place she's supposed to fit.

"Don't be embarrassed," Mindy says, when Danny is quiet for a while. "I cried at like every episode of that World War II thing you had me watch."

"Band of Brothers. And I'm not embarrassed, Matthew was a stand-up guy. Anyone would have gotten emotional over that," Danny says. "Listen, I'm sorry about forgetting your friend's name. You know I'm bad at this stuff."

"I know," Mindy says. "You're lucky you're good at other stuff."

She can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "What other stuff?"

"Breech deliveries." Mindy smiles when she feels him laugh. "Dancing. Keeping leaves out of my hair. Among other things."

STATEN ISLAND, JANUARY 2015

"This is nothing like I what I pictured," Mindy says, twenty minutes into the reception. She's already pronounced the bridal party's dresses to be "on point," which Danny thinks is a compliment.

"Did you expect a bunch of people with big hair and bad outfits?"

"In my defense, there are a good number of people who fit that description," Mindy says, nodding in the direction of Danny's aunt Barbara, and okay, she's got a point. "But there are way more people that don't."

"All you know of Staten Island is Jersey Shore and Working Girl." Danny says. "I shudder to think what you expected."

"Both of those are awesome things, okay, you should be proud."

"I'll give you Working Girl, but Jersey Shore, no way," Danny says, following Mindy over to a table with an assortment of appetizers. He watches her examine each offering, filling up her plate and his with options.

"I am definitely having whatever this shrimp thing is at my wedding. It tastes like something Beyonce and Jay-Z would have when they invite Kim and Kanye over for dinner, that's how good it is."

"But Beyonce and Kim don't like each other," Danny says, and then closes his eyes. "I can't believe I know this stuff now."

"You're welcome," Mindy says, sounding quite proud of herself. "I think they're going to work things out, and if they don't, that shrimp thing is awesome enough to bring anyone together. All of the food is amazing, in fact."

Danny takes a bite. "Of course the food is good, like my family would allow there to be bad food at a wedding,"

"Your family is immune to catering mishaps?" Mindy says.

"Absolutely we are. Listen to this," Danny says, lowering his voice. Mindy's eyes light up as she leans closer, and Danny feels a rush of de ja vu, a memory of all the times he's done this in the time since they first met, and he realizes now most of the time it was probably just an excuse to draw her near.

"What?" Mindy whispers. "That was very dramatic, Danny, and then you left me hanging-"

"Sorry, okay," Danny says, and then continues in a lowered voice. "For Richie's eighth grade graduation, we ordered a bunch of food from DeLoreo's to celebrate. Pizza, wings, all the stuff he liked. Turned out almost all of the stuff was undercooked, completely inedible. You know what happened next?"

Mindy wrinkles her nose. "Danny, I did my time in the ER, I know the special hell wrought by food-borne illness, there's no need to-" 

"Come on, that's not what I meant! I mean, sure, it happened to my cousin Lucky, but he's an idiot and ate a half dozen wings even after we realized they were bad. No," Danny says, lowering his voice again. "What happened next was Deloreo's went out of business."

Mindy stands up straight. "Your family put them out of business?"

Danny nods. "That's right."

"Oh my God, Danny, this is so exciting," Mindy says. "I can't believe you never told me you were connected."

"Connected?" Danny says, but before he can interrupt with anything else, Mindy is off and running.

"Did you have to wait a certain amount of time to tell me, so you could be sure you could trust me?" Mindy pops a stuffed mushroom in her mouth without breaking verbal stride. "I have to say, I'm a little offended if that's the case, because we were really good friends for a long time before we started dating, and we've been together for several months now, and -"

"My family is not connected," Danny says. "That is a very troubling stereotype about Italian Americans, who have contributed a lot more to this country than mob movies and -"

"Marinara sauce, I know, you've told me, like eight million times. But you also just lowered your voice and said something about how that your family put a restaurant out of business," Mindy says, altering her voice into what, to Danny, is a very poor imitation of his own inflection. "What am I supposed to think that means?"

"That we called the health department," Danny says, throwing his hand up. "We reported those bastards and got an inspection arranged. Turns out they had a ton of bad stuff going on. A ton. I can't even tell you about it, you won't eat another thing tonight."

Mindy takes the stuffed mushroom off of his plate. "Come on, Danny, it's me. I'm going to eat either way."

"I don't know. I don't want to risk it. I know you like these things, all the different appetizers and stuff," Danny says, looking down at their plates, which started out with one of everything available, but now are almost empty between the two of them. "I want you to have a good time."

"I'm already having a good time," Mindy says, threading her arm through his.

UPSTATE NEW YORK, APRIL 2015

"It's not that I expected anything super traditional," Mindy says as she hands a just-rinsed dinner plate to Danny. "I know it's Duncan Deslaurier's wedding. When they said it was at a commune upstate, I figured that meant no awesome dance music at the reception, and I was right. I figured maybe we'd have to listen to a bunch of free verse poetry at the ceremony-"

"Nailed that one too," Danny says, adding the plate to the stack of now-clean dishes.

"And that part wasn't awful. But this?" Mindy says, gesturing with a sponge at the kitchen around them. "This I cannot tolerate."

"I don't know, it's not so bad," Danny says. "We only have to do this for twenty minutes, and then we go back to the party. At least we don't have to break down the tent when it's all over like Jeremy and Peter, I think we got a lucky draw in terms of reception duties."

Mindy scrubs at a spot of sauce on a plate. "I wish you would stop being so reasonable about this. I feel like a sour, hateful person right now, don't make me be alone in my sour hatefulness!"

Danny holds out his hand for the sponge and says. "Come on. Dry duty for you for a bit."

Mindy takes the towel and switches spots with him. "Thank you."

They work in silence for a few minutes, and Mindy has to admit that it's maybe not the worst thing in the world. The music from the reception drifts in through the open window, and while it's not awesome music to dance to, it is pretty. The view from the window itself is nice, the uneven grass leading up to the back door dotted with wildflowers, a chicken making its way across the yard.

Mindy leans toward the window and calls out, "Run, chicken! You think these hippies are your friends, but I ate one of your cousins for dinner!"

"First they take your eggs, then they take your life! You're not safe here!" Danny calls out beside her, which makes Mindy grin.

The chicken continues its meandering way across the yard as they finish up their last few minutes.

"Okay, so this wasn't exactly torture," Mindy says, with a sigh as she puts away the last plate. "But let me tell you, no one will be performing manual labor at my wedding."

Danny unplugs the sink to drain it. "Why do you always say that?"

Mindy bristles. "Say stuff about other people's weddings? I'm not being judgmental, Danny – okay, don't look at me like that, if you ask me to wash dishes at your reception you have to know I'll have something to say about it, have these people met me? I am a strong, confident woman who knows her mind, and I will not apologize for it."

Mindy finishes her speech with her hand perched on her hip, hair dramatically tossed over one shoulder. She would feel pretty confident about her whole look were it not for the ancient flip-flops she borrowed from one of the commune residents when it came time for her to go on dish duty.

"It's not that," Danny says, rolling down the sleeves of his dress shirt. "Why do you always say, 'At my wedding' like you'll be the only one there, don't I get a say in things?"

Mindy feels a little like someone punched her in the stomach. "You – of course. I mean, when I said that, I just meant, like, in general."

"Sure I will," Danny says, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Mindy changes out of the flip flops and walks out to the backyard with Danny, who is saying something about the best time to get on the road tomorrow so they don't hit traffic. Finding a way to beat traffic is one of Danny's ongoing quests, and it's definitely something he doesn't need a partner to have a conversation about, which is a good thing because all Mindy can hear is her mind replying Danny saying _don't I get a say in things?_

"Danny," she interrupts, taking his hand to stop his progress across the lawn. "What do you want our wedding to be like?"

"Well," Danny says, tightening his grip on her hand in that way he does when one of them is trying to be brave. Mindy doesn't know if it's him or her, right now. "It's not going to be here."

"That's for sure," Mindy says.

"There'll be good food," Danny says, pulling her close.

"There's never bad food at a Castellano event, I've been told," Mindy says. "That's one of the major pluses when it comes to joining the family."

"It's not something to overlook," Danny says. "Otherwise, I don't know. I'm not particular."

Mindy rolls her eyes. "You're totally particular. You're the worst kind of particular, the kind who doesn't think they're picky."

"I'm the most easygoing guy in the world, ask anybody," Danny says, with a smile. "Really, I don't care about any of this stuff. The main thing for me is that you're there."

"I'd better be," Mindy says, going up on her toes to kiss him.

.end.


End file.
